This is our nameless protagonist
This is our nameless protagonist
This was a small project where I personified one of my first dolls ever sewn. She was made into a guardian character for my indoor garden. The environment is purposefully abstract because a bedroom would be strange & alien to a freshly created doll.
But personally, I think it would be cooler if the environment was actually strange. Empty, like a strange void. Almost like the "weirdcore" trend that's been happening a decade after this was written.
Skin wheat yellow, hair midnight blue
Eyes splotched beige and white so true
Stitched together with thread like blood
Watching plants that grow and bud
Needle finishes it's work
Now amongst the thicket lurk
Waiting for a threat to rear
Keeping quiet so as to hear
I wake in the dark. It's silent, except for a steady sound in the distance. It seems like wind rushing in and out of something, but I can't tell. All is calm as I wait in my red seat. Soon, I let my mind wander to a voice I heard in my dream. I can't understand the words. Of course, at the time I can't remember most words. I believe I was being told something about decisions. But where? I'm content here in my red perch. Yes, I'm curious of what may lie beyond, but I must guard as was the duty given to me.
Then again, I do want to know why I lack a voice of my own. It would be nice to speak. The plants love to be spoken to. If I can speak, I can take care of them better. But then I remembered a word the voice kept saying. Mouth. What's that? The voice said it a lot when it mentioned talking. Maybe it's an item to find? That sounds right. If I find a Mouth, I can have a voice of my own!
I have wandered the white plains every night now. No threats have come around. Even new plants have been sprouting. However, a strange object has appeared in the center of this area. A large, flat square on a perch of some kind. It's accompanied by black snakes and a rocky, black landscape. What could it possibly be doing here? How dare it disturb the peace?
Amidst my confusion and anger, a stranger approaches. Cloth, like me, only many shades of brown. Her eyes are so oddly colored, as if one had been replaced. But it couldn't have been. She looked perfectly new, no sign of scars. She had odd triangular pieces of cloth on top of her head, stitched with the same blood thread as I possess. But her most notable feature is something on her face, something that I do not have.
She seems to notice me staring and begins to talk. A voice arises from her as she says things I do not understand. But she can be heard. I hear her. She has the Mouth. Soon enough, we somehow come to an agreement. She takes my post while I find a Mouth of my own. It's odd to entrust her with my duty so early, but I must find my own voice. I don't believe I could bear listening without speaking myself.
If I ever were to return to this project, I may go for a more visual medium. I want a nothingness expanding as far as button eyes can see. I want to delve deeper into how the main character didn't know what she was lacking until she saw someone with it.
I just realized a connection to my life that this bare bones story has that I didn't realize prior. Oh.